


Vegas, Baby

by DMichelleWrites



Category: Arrow (TV 2012), The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-09
Updated: 2017-07-09
Packaged: 2018-11-29 23:10:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,551
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11451009
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DMichelleWrites/pseuds/DMichelleWrites
Summary: Oliver and Felicity wanted a simple wedding weekend with a calm bride and groom shower, but their friends and family have other plans.





	Vegas, Baby

**Author's Note:**

  * For [muslimsmoak](https://archiveofourown.org/users/muslimsmoak/gifts).



> Happy birthday, Monisha — my best fandom friend. The concept is all hers. I just wrote it down and ran with it. I hope you enjoy it and your awesome day.

( _Full-size version of my Olicity edit[here](http://dmichellewrites.tumblr.com/post/162750418526/part-2-muslimsmoak-can-you-guess-part-3)._ )

Felicity putters around their hotel suite, going back and forth between the bathroom and her overnight bag. Oliver sits on his haunches at the foot of their bed. A boyish grin adorns his face. His fiance is seemingly too busy to notice as she touches a light coat of her pink lip stain. Oliver clears his throat, garnering her attention. He glances at Felicity and then the gray comforter. Her cork wedge sandals are muffled by the plush tan carpeted floor as she saunters towards him.

Patting his stubbly cheek, Felicity muses, "Not tonight, but soon."

"Aww," He whines like a little boy, "Why not?"

It's difficult for her too. And of course, Oliver just has to be waiting for her shirtless - fresh out of their shower. A droplet of water slips down those washboard. His hair is still damp. Thank God, he finally shaves that summer beard because it'd been distracting from those gorgeous baby blues. Plus those damn dark denim jeans hug his ass perfectly. His scars are so boldly accented by the afternoon sunlight, pouring in from their floor-to-ceiling window. Oliver has so many in his collection, as does she. Wounds are formed with loss, tragedy, and pain. They will never forget those memories, yet now the couple both wear those scars akin to badges of courage, honor, and strength.

" _Felicity_."

Ugh, does he have to enunciate her name like that? So sexy, it rolls off his tongue like a smooth Malbec. She licks her lips, blinking as if to center herself.

"Oliver, you know I want to wait 'til the wedding next weekend. If we followed my Jewish heritage, you and I couldn't even see each other for at least an entire week."

His face crumples, "Are you serious? Fine. Let's talk about something else. How was brunch with your mom?"

"Ha!" The blonde hacker snorts, thumbs wading in his dimples, "You should know I just told you about it the shower."

"Hey!" Oliver notes. "In fairness, I was very distracted, you were naked and wet."

"Hmm, and that's all you're going to get until the wedding night. Do we have an understanding?" His girl warns, using her loud voice.

He recoils, "Yes, Baby."

Oliver's a bit taken aback, yet slightly turned on when his betrothed gets boss.  Hell, Felicity can boss him around any time. She does anyway, especially in the bedroom. However, he doesn't mind one bit.

"Ah, don't you 'Baby' me, mister. You only call me that when you want something, and I, for one, am sticking to my guns."

"Got it."

Felicity throws her broody hero a bone with a lingering smooch.

"Better?"

Oliver pouts, forehead crinkling, "No."

"Tough." His fiance wonders, "So when are John, Barry, and the guys taking you to your surprise bachelor party at the bar which we're not supposed to know about?"

Checking his new silver watch, he figures, "Five hours and counting. So are Thea, Di, and Cait whisking you away to your bachelorette party at the Grand which we're also not supposed to know about?"

She shrugs, "Mom forgot to mention that part. Soon, I guess."

Felicity pulls on a black t-shirt over her red tank top. Oliver chuckles at the sight, reaching for his cellphone in his back pocket. Her message tee read: IF LOST PLEASE RETURN TO OLIVER QUEEN.

"Smile." Oliver directs, pointing the camera.

"Not until you put a shirt on because all of that." His fiance believes, gesturing to his abs, “deliciousness is really distracting”

The off-duty Emerald Archer sniffs one of his previously worn discarded white t-shirts, slipping back into it.

“Instagram moment.”

“It’s been six months, and I’m still surprised you even have an Instagram account.”

He scoffs, clearly affronted, “I’m not immune to pop culture.”

“Okay.” Felicity mutters under her breath.

“Plus Wil’s on Instagram.”

Palming her forehead, his fiancé hopes, “Please tell me you’re not going to be a helicopter dad?”

“Just in case, Felicity. Come on, even someone as brilliant as you doesn’t know all the freaks and weirdos on the internet. We’re public figures in Star City. I need to make sure he’s safe. Besides he knows I’m on instagram anyway, although he hasn’t accepted my follow request.”

The adorable blonde snorts, “Yeah, don’t hold your breath on that one, my love.”

He frowns, hand tapping against his hip.

“Hey, if some sketchy stuff goes down, I promise I’ll hack into every social media site until any creeps or weirdos are found.”

“Thank you. Now can I just take a photo of my beautiful fiancé please?”

“Aww.” She coos, swearing, “Yeah, you’re still not getting laid, Oliver.”

With a finger snap, Oliver mumbles, “Damn it”

In essence, Felicity is cock-blocking herself, but frack she has will power. The wedding night would be mind-blowing, knowing that they need to wait a bit. Granted, it’s definitely not their first time. It’s silly, but sex after that incredible day would feel special. Oliver snaps a photo of his girl. She strikes a relaxed, cute pose. It’s perfect, detailing everything. Felicity even manages to include her lime green nails, the shade fittingly dubbed “Celebrate”

“Did you get a good one?”

Her fiancé whispers, “Always.”

“Uh-huh.” Felicity doubts, yoinking the phone out of his hand, “Okay, okay. Not bad, Queen.”

“Told you so.”

She giggles at his caption.

 **oliverjqueen** : If you bring back my fiancé to me unharmed, that’ll be the end of it...but if you try anything, I will hunt you down and find you. That means you, Speedy. Have a good time, but be safe.

Adopting a Green Arrow tone, his betrothed jokes, “You have not failed this party.”

“Cute.”

“You bet your ass I am.” The hacker quips, requesting, “Do you mind helping me with this necklace?”

Oliver nods, closing the lobster clasp on her single pearl pendant.

“All set.” What’s on your mind, Felicity?”

“Well, will there be a stripper at this party?”

“Of course not. Besides your mom already took us to that Burlesque show after we landed.”

Felicity shudders, “Don’t remind me.”

“Just dudes at a bar, playing pool drinking beer, throwing darts. What about you?” He inquires, pressing a kiss to her temple.

“No way. Male strippers are so aggressive. I’d actually think I’d be more comfortable with a woman giving me a lap dance.”

Well, that admission certain piques his interest. His lips tick up in a wry smile.

“Get your mind out of the gutter, Oliver.”

“Too late.”

Before Felicity gets the chance to chastise her love. Three loud knocks bombard their hotel room door as if somebody is going to bust it down. In instinct, Oliver slips in vigilante mode. He grips Felicity’s wrist, pulling her behind him. A pronounced crinkle hardens between his brows. Oliver’s azure eyes seethe with anger, ready to attack the intruder like a wild animal. His gaze softens when two familiar faces burst out from the hallway.

“Surprise!” Thea and Dinah cheer simultaneously.

The blonde greets, dragging out the word, “Hey.”

“Geeze.” Oliver sighs in relief, hand over his heart, “You two nearly gave me a heart attack.”

“Chill, bro.”

Dinah adds, clapping his back, “Relax. We’ve just come to kidnap your fiancé and have some fun.”

Thea interjects, using her rapper voice, “We’re gonna get turnt.”

“What? I have no idea what that means.”

With a hand raise, Felicity pipes up, “I’m with him.”

“We gonna have fun, bitches.” Her almost sister-in-law clarifies, doing a booty shake.

“Thea Dearden Queen, have you been drinking already?”

His sister denies hastily, “No.”

“Uh, what about that one mimosa in the morning?” The SCPD officer checks. “And then there was that tequila shot by the pool.”

She grits, “Not helping, Dinah.”

“Water for you.” Her brother insists.

“But…"

“Nope.”

Stomping her boot, Thea demands, “Ollie, please.”

“No. N-O.”

Crossing her arms, the petite brunette relents, “Yes, _brother dearest_.”

“Come on. Come on.” Dinah ushers her friends out of the room, “Let’s hit the road, ladies.”

The trio zips past the suburbia, glam, and glitz of Felicity’s home. Thea and Dinah park their Ducatis at a shooting range. Felicity steps off Dinah’s black and silver motorcycle with a Cheshire grin.

“What a rush!” Felicity exclaims, removing her crimson helmet.

Thea huffs out a laugh, “So my brother still hasn’t found you’re training with us.”

Felicity shakes her head, blonde tresses moving every which way.”

Dinah points out, “I know you hate guns, so I was surprised you wanted to go to a shooting range, boss.”

“I do, but I want to learn how to use one, considering our lifestyle. Who better to teach me than you two? Bummed Iris can’t make it.”

“Why not?”

Thea fills in, “She’s writing about a drug bust in Keystone with Wally and Jesse. But Barry’s zooming by with Cait. And Donna will be there.”

“I love hanging out with Caitlin and my mom, even though sometimes it feels like pink on steroids when Donna Smoak steps into the room.”

Thankfully, Thea loans her sister-in-law some boots. Bullets used to startle Felicity after Darhk’s ambush. At times, they still do. But training with her friends helps Felicity gain an even greater sense of confidence. After filling out paperwork and grabbing gear, each woman lines up to her paper target. A buzzer rings, which follows the shrill command of a drill sergeant to commence fire. With eyes wide open, Felicity shoots her neon orange target with ease. Unfortunately, her aim is somewhat off but they can work on that later.

At the end of their session, Dinah complements, “Nice job, chicas.”

“Thanks,” chime Thea and Felicity.

The ladies partake in a late lunch, shopping, sightseeing (not tourist spots, but rather where Felicity used to go to as a teenager. They wrap it up with a sparring session. Just before sunset, a red streak cuts through an open deserted road. Rene and Curtis lag with their respective bike and T-Spheres while Dig trails behind in the van.

“‘Bout time you fellas showed up.” The Scarlet Speedster teases, “I gave you an hour head start.”

Curtis regrets, “I know I should’ve had you carry me.”

“No way.” Rene refuses adamantly, tucking his helmet under his arm. “I’ll pass.”

Dig stares in stunned silence still to this day, and he definitely will not rake Fleet Feet up on his offer. Barry’s running results in speed motion sickness and a Hellhole of vomit.

“How you doing Dig?”

Not a peep out of the former soldier.

“Really?” Caitlin queries in disbelief, “We’ve worked together multiple times now.”

Pointing, Dig says in amazement, “Someone’s still gotta be freaked out by this kid.”

Various mixes of no and not really weave through the band of travelers. Barry picks up Caitlin bridal style.

“See you later, boys.” The biologist bids with a cutesy wave

The Flash races Caitlin off to rendezvous with the bridal shower. Luckily, Donna is busy carrying out the Harry Potter cake with a big eight on top. Donna ordered the cake for child since most brides don’t request wizard cakes for their special events. But anything for her baby girl. Caitlin’s pump clack against the sidewalk.

“Ooh, are we still running?”

“No, you’re on the ground, Cait.”

“Thank God.”

Barry runs off. “Pick you up later. Be back in a flash.”

“Ooh,” Thea cringes, mirroring looks of her friends, “When did Barry start making that cheesy dad joke?”

The willowy brunette scientist deadpans, “Three long weeks after Cisco told Bar he couldn’t think of a cool catchphrase on his own.”

“Well, it’s still better than.” Felicity injects a gruff tone in her voice, “You have failed this city.”

“Ha! And you told my brother it was cute.”

Carrying a small two-tier cake with a magical trio, Donna inquires, “Dr. Snow or Dr. Snow-Raymond? Do you hyphenate?”

“I do,” The doctor confirms, shaking Donna’s hand, “But you can call me, Cait, Ms. Smoak. Nice to finally meet you, Ms. Smoak.”

“Felicity’s told me all about your amazing work at S.T.A.R. Labs. When did you get here?”

“A few hours ago, but I took an Uber to the hotel.”

“Oh, okay.” Donna says, linking arms with her daughter. “Let the bachelorette party begin.”

A few blocks down, the guys nurse bottles of beer to a nearly vacant bar. They play a few rounds of pool, throw some darts, and mull in hard wooden chairs. Oliver takes the cake at dart for obvious reasons. People don’t call him the Green Arrow for nothing. Curtis beats everybody’s ass at “billiards”, babbling on about a long-winded explanation of how it’s basic geometry and physics.

After a swig of dark ale, Rene growls, “We get it, Glasses. You won.”

“No need to be a sore loser, man.”

“I am not!”

“Gentlemen to your corners.” John advises with a clear of his throat, “This is Oliver’s night.”

Rene notes, gesturing emphatically around the empty room. “It’s boring as fuck, dude.”

“It could use some livening up, Ollie.” Barry yawns, cracking his shoulder.

“That pic of Felicity you posted was so adorable, Oliver. I was bummed it was an all girls’ bachelorette party. I make a mean wine spritzer Paul loves any time we have a shindig.”

His mentor smirks, “So I’ve heard.”

“So when is the stripper getting here, Hoss?”

“No. No strippers. Felicity and I had an agreement.” Oliver notes, “I’m way past that shit. Besides how would Dinah feel about the whole ahem exotic dancer comment.”

“How the Hell you know about D and me? We kept it on the DL” Rene questions, accusing, “You said something, didn’t you, Mr. Lame Balls?”

“Lame Balls?” The forensic scientist repeats with a chuckle.

Oliver looks up at the ceiling, silently asking God (despite not talking to him for awhile) why he’s dealing with children.

Grabbing his brother another cold brewsky, Dig realizes, “You are not having any fun, are you?”

“This used to be a night to end all nights in my twenties.” Oliver laughs, rubbing the back of his neck, “Now I want to do is be at home with Felicity and Will, make ‘em dinner, maybe watch Netflix, play cards, and go to bed.”

“Why don’t you stay for the cake? And then we’ll return you home to your girl. Sound good?”

Barry moves at a normal pace, wheeling in a green velvet cake molded into a bottle of Oliver’s favorite Russian vodka.

“Nice. Who’s idea was this?”

Dig and Barry admit smugly, “Mine.”

Back at the Grand Hotel, Felicity and friends ate some delicious cajun fried chicken, drank some signature sangrias, and dance the night away. Dinah has some very interesting moves to show her friends on the stripper. Felicity is in awe of anyone can bend and twist in such a cool way because it takes a lot of upper body and core strength. Di had an undercover as the exotic dancer Diamond. Laughter and music rouse throughout the room among stories of sex, debauchery, and embarrassing family tales.

Thea observes, “Was the Potter cake your idea or your mom’s?”

“What? You don’t like it?”

She shrugs, “It definitely screams you.”

“I like it.” Cait vouches.

Dinah adds, “Me too.”

It had Harry, Ron, and Hermione atop a black layer of fondant with one tier of red velvet and the base as German chocolate.

Felicity recalls, “I so wanted to be Hermione was I was ten. Almost as much as I wanted to go to Space Camp just so I can punch Draco in the face and yell ‘You foul little cockroach!”

The three ladies clap, “Excellent performance, milady.”

“Why thank you.” The CEO obliges with a curtsy and bow.

Donna’s been hung up on cellphone for twenty minutes. As soon as she cuts the call, a doorbell to their suite rings.

Her mother prompts, “Oh, I wonder who that is.”

“Oh, no. Mom, you didn’t.”

“Pizza delivery!”

She calls out, “We didn’t order any pizza.”

“Felicity.” Donna chides, opening the door, “Lighten up, it’s a your bachelorette bash.”

A strapping young man with gorgeous green eyes and wavy auburn hair invades the room in a delivery costume.

“So who’s the lucky lady that ordered the extra sausage?”

Felicity snorts, rolling her eyes, “Please.”

“She is.” Donna answers for her with a beatific grin and a wad of dollar bills in her hand.

“Ma! No. Nix. Nyet. Oliver and I promised…”

“Just one dance, baby girl. I already paid the guy.”

Trudging to a wooden chair, “Fine. Let’s see what you got hot stuff.”

“Nice song choice, gorgeous.”

The song “Hot Stuff pulsed over the stripper’s boombox. Ugh, what is the guy? Straight out of the nineties. He opens his legs while he removes his blue hoodie like Superman. Actually, Felicity knows for a fact even Clark wouldn’t be so much of a chauvinist. The stripper with a runner’s build, much scrawnier than her Adonis fiancé, gyrates to the beat, shaking his ass and his junk.

“Let’s see the good stuff, Stan!” Her mother yells, making it rain money.

A flash and his six pack. Ha! Oliver has eight.

His pants rip off with a single pull and from the bulge in his white thong. This dude isn’t packing much. He climbs on Felicity’s lap, unaware of her cringe.

“Hey, idiot” She alerts, though the music’s too loud. “Get of me.”

Dinah and Thea want to pull him away, yet Donna urges, “Come on, Stan. Make her feel special!”

The stripper grinds and thrusts against her. Tears well in Felicity’s eyes. Cait stops the music. Thea and Dinah’s fist clench, but the bride-to-be beats her friends to the punch, cracking Stan across the face with her purse.

Cait beams with pride, “Wow.”

“Good work,” Dinah and Thea fist bump.

“Woah, mama. You like it rough. I don’t…”

“No you don’t get it, junior. Get the Hell off me now. I did not want a stripper. My fiancé is sexier than your scrawny ass. So away with you..”

“Baby, you gotta.”

“No, Stan.” Donna steps in, “Take the cash and leave now.”

He spits, leaving with his check, “Whatever.”

“Sweetie, I’m sorry.”

“You mean well.” Felicity understands, hugging her mother, “You always do.”

With a glint of regret staining her mascara, Donna agrees, “I wanted to…”

“Shh, I know. But right now I want to clean up and another sangria.”

Cait offers, heading towards the small kitchen, “I’ll slice up the oranges.”

“I’ll get the wine.” Dinah adds, opening a lower compartment in the fridge.

Thea figures, doing an en pointe stance at the cabinets, “The shortest one gets the glasses.”

Multiple sangrias later, Barry arrives back at Oliver and Felicity’s hotel with two inebriated geniuses tucked safely in his arms. Caitlin immediately barfs in the potted fern while Felicity falls against Oliver’s chest.

“Thanks, Barfolomew,” Felicity giggle-snorts.

Oliver mouths silently, “Wow, how much did have they to drink?”

“Bar, slow down. The room is spinning.”

“I don’t think that’s room. Come on. Ronnie’s in for one Hell of a night we get back.”

She slurs, “Obviously.”

“Oh, boy. Okay, I’ve brought your fiancé back safe and sound.”

“Yep. You okay with Cait?”

“Mm-hm.” The metahuman nods, carrying his friend like an infant, “She falls asleep every time we pass Coast City.”

Caitlin mumbles groggily, “The ocean’s so pretty. Like super pretty.”

“Oh, boy. Okay, here we go.”

“More running.” His friend squeals, clinging to the speedster haphazardly, “Whee!”

She isn’t saying that around mile 200.

“H-Honey, what are you doing sneaking into my party?” Felicity asks, tripping over her words and her own two feet.

“Barry brought your back to our hotel, Baby. You must have a fun night.”

“Def-Definitely until my mom brought a stripper into the mix.”

“Say what now?”

His fiancé shouts, “A slipper! I mean stripper, but don't worry, don’t worry, I didn’t like it. He was too…”

“Too what, Honey? Tell me.”

She whispers with wide eyes, “Don’t go Mister grr… Growly bear. I hit with him my purse.”

“Atta, girl.” Oliver guides Felicity to their en suite bathroom. “Let’s get you some water, and I’ll take you to bed.”

“So we can have sex?”

“No, not ‘til our wedding night.”

He gets her a cold glass of water, helping his fiancé change into a nightgown that apparently had her trapped. Felicity stumbles on the way to their bed, so Oliver picks up her over his shoulder.

“Woo! I’m flying just like Kar… Oops! Secret identity. Shh!”

“Of course.” Oliver obliges, laying her under their covers. “I need you to stay on your left side for me. Okay?”

Felicity nods, teeth pinching her lower lip.

“Good. Your water’s on the nightstand and there’s a trash can on your side when you need to ralph.”

“Oliver, wait.”

“Yes, Hon?”

Grabbing his wrist, Felicity pleads, “Cuddle with me ‘til I fall asleep?”

“Sure.”

Oliver rests on his side of the bed, looping his arms around Felicity. He caresses her hair until his ears are treated loud drunken snores like a sailor. Sleep is short-lived since his fiancé makes her way to the bathroom. It’s a long night of constant toilet flushes and holding back hair. But as long as Oliver and Felicity are with each other, it’s perfect.

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry, if my formatting is off, my laptop has gone to Tech Village Heaven in the sky, so stories are written on my phone and tablet.  
> Reviews and Kudos are appreciated.  
> Say hey, and please let me know what you think in the comments.  
> Tumblr: [DMichelleWrites](http://dmichellewrites.tumblr.com/)  
> Twitter: [@dmichelleca](https://twitter.com/dmichelleca)


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